MPs' expenses: Weak at Westminster

The most corrosive of all the nasty aspects of the MPs' expenses saga is what it says about the way members of parliament view the rest of us. What, other than arrogance, could make them believe that they could justify their behaviour simply by insisting that they were not breaking the law. The former archbishop of Canterbury, George Carey, undoubtedly reflected a widespread feeling of nausea at the hypocrisy that allows even politicians like Hazel Blears – someone who had previously seemed decent, well-motivated and genuine, and who lambasted the government for its failure to put over its message only a week ago – to claim yesterday that she did nothing wrong.

Of course she is right, technically. But if she honestly believes it is morally acceptable to game an allowance that comes from the taxes of her own generally much poorer voters to further a sideline as a property developer, then the ex-archbishop has a point about the moral standing of parliament. For the law – which, as Ms Blears says, has not been broken either by her nor, probably, any of her colleagues – rightly holds that people in positions of trust will be treated more severely if they are found in breach of it than another person. The accountant who embezzles from a client is committing an offence of a different order to the shoplifter.

There was a second event last week that grabbed fewer headlines but might do even more damage to the relationship between state and citizen. The government's failure to achieve one of its most heartfelt objectives, the reduction of poverty, will for some voters be a bigger disappointment even than the economic crisis precipitated in part by its reluctant approach to regulation. The figures are a snapshot, and they will look better next time. And yes, failure is at least as much to do with a shortage of investment as with the tools used to lift people out of poverty. But that is not a case that can easily be made when the future is all about where to cut rather than how to spend. Many people will argue that it reflects the limitations of state activity.

The cry to devolve power to the lowest ­effective level has become so fashionable over the last 10 years that it can be heard across a swath of the political spectrum from right to left. The historian David Marquand recently speculated that the strand of ideology that favours the "kinetic energy" of the ordinary citizen, the belief that powered early ­20th-century Liberal governments, is due a revival. The shadow chancellor, George Osborne, announced in these pages that he has joined the advisory council of the Blairite thinktank Demos which last week published a beguiling pamphlet on The Liberal Republic, describing an ideal state where "individual, capable people ­determine their own version of the good life".

For supporters of a liberal revival, voters' reaction to their MPs' cavalier approach to ­public morality has a consoling aspect. Despite the cynicism with which many people treat their representatives, the degree of outrage about their allowances suggests voters still expect them to behave better, to be governed not by the letter but by the spirit of the law, and above all by their conscience. And it suggests that although they appear weak at ­Westminster, the traditions of civic Britain flourish. From the unpromising seed bed of political scandal and economic crisis, a real argument is taking shape about the relationship between the individual and the state and parliament's role in it. Defenders of the state have to think hard about where it is failing and why, to separate the rhetoric of a Labour government from its genuine achievements. But the important message of the last week is that contrary to the doom-mongers, voters still expect their MPs to behave well and their governments to make a difference. And that holds out at least the promise of a better way of doing things.